A Tale of Two Cities

the last words, after there had been a vivid flash which had shown
him lounging in the window.

'And I hear them!' he added again, after a peal of thunder. 'Here they come, fast, fierce, and furious!'

It was the rush and roar of rain that he typified, and it stopped
him, for no voice could be heard in it. A memorable storm of
thunder and lightning broke with that sweep of water, and there
was not a moment's interval in crash, and fire, and rain, until after
the moon rose at midnight.

The great bell of Saint Paul's was striking One in the cleared air,
when Mr. Lorry, escorted by Jerry, high-booted and bearing a lantern, set forth on his return-passage to Clerkenwell. There was solitary patches of road on the way between Soho and Clerkenwell,
and Mr. Lorry, mindful of foot-pads, always retained Jerry for
this service: though it was usually performed a good two hours
earlier.

'What a night it has been! Almost a night, Jerry,' said Mr. Lorry, 'to bring the dead out of their graves.'

'I never see the night myself, master--nor yet I don't expect to
--what would do that,' answered Jerry.

'Good-night, Mr. Carton,' said the man of business. 'Goodnight, Mr. Darnay. Shall we ever see such a night again, together!'

Perhaps. Perhaps, see the great crowd of people with its rush
and roar, bearing down upon them, too.

CHAPTER VII MONSEIGNEUR IN TOWN

MONSEIGNEUR, one of the great lords in power at the Court, held
his fortnightly reception in his grand hotel in Paris. Monseigneur
was in his inner room, his sanctuary of sanctuaries, the Holiest of
Holiests to the crowd of worshippers in the suite of rooms without.
Monseigneur was about to take his chocolate. Monseigneur could
swallow a great many things with ease, and was by some few sul-

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